


Of Homeownership and Minivans

by BlueMinuet



Series: Trolls Know Nuthin’ ‘Bout Babies [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Pregnancy, joking mentions of MPreg, mentions of Birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:18:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMinuet/pseuds/BlueMinuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dave defends his position that the "No Pregnant Women on the Roof" rule isn't sexist at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Homeownership and Minivans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ittybittytoomuch](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ittybittytoomuch).



> For ittybittytoomuch on Tumblr, who requested "two weeks after _The Chirpbeasts and the Bees_ " in order to find out more about Dave and Jade's relationship in this universe... Not sure if this makes it more or less confusing.

**> Be Dave Strider**

Of course you’re Dave Strider. Why would you be anyone else but Dave Strider? Admittedly there are times you had wished you could be someone else for a while, and you’re not really sure if right now is one of those moments or not. 

You kick a pinecone off your roof, and watch it bounce down to the gutters. You realize, not for the first time unfortunately, that someone should probably clean those gutters, and that someone is obviously going to be you. 

You never had these kinds of dreadfully domestic problems living in an apartment building in the city. Now your life is all suburbs and homeownership and just yesterday you were considering buying a minivan. 

You’re getting a little woozy just thinking about it, so you probably shouldn’t be standing on the roof. You decide to quit beating around the bush and get to the point of why you’re up here. 

“So, Jade…” 

Your wife doesn’t answer, continuing to sit on the edge of the roof and staring off at nothing in particular. 

“I don’t wanna be ‘that guy,’” you say, complete with air quotes, even though she isn’t looking at you, “but there is still a ‘No Pregnant Women on the Roof’ rule in effect.” 

“Dave,” she sighs. 

You cut her off. “I know. I know what you’re going to say. ‘That’s sexist, Dave.’ But hear me out, babe. I would do the same for a pregnant dude too.”

“Dave,” she repeats, with less exasperation this time. 

“So if, finger’s crossed here, John ever manages to knock up Karkat, he won’t be allowed on the roof either. You heard it here first. No more Dave and Karkat strifing on the roof as long as there’s a bun in that oven. All Dave and Karkat strife shenanigans will take place firmly on the ground. Safety first.” 

She laughs, and you figure it’s safe enough to get closer to her. You sit down next to her, dangling your legs onto the sloped shingles. 

“What’s up, Babe?” 

She rests her head on your shoulder and sighs. “I’m tired of being inside. I’m tired of laying down and doing nothing. I want to go back to work.” 

You poke her rounded stomach. “Not happening. Sorry ‘bout that.” 

You slip an arm around her, but it doesn’t make her stop pouting.

“I just didn’t expect to take maternity leave this early,” she mutters.

“Yeah, because if it were up to you, you wouldn’t take off from work until the head was crowning.”

She punches you in the leg. 

“Damn, woman. You trying to cripple me?” 

She sighs. “It just sucks. I’ve been stuck in this house for a week now and I feel like I’m going crazy.” 

“Well, look on the bright side. Only five more weeks to go.”

She punches you again. 

“Contrary to popular belief, I need that leg.” 

“You’re a photographer. You don’t need legs to take pictures,” she mumbles into your shoulder. 

“Yeah, but the magazine has that fashion spread coming up that I have to shoot,” you say.

“And what does that have to do with anything?” 

“Okay, imagine this,” you say, spreading your free hand out in front of you, to help paint your glorious mental image. “There I am, taking pictures of all those sexy men and women, none of which hold a candle to my radiant and adoring wife who never physically abuses me at all—” She punches you again. “—when suddenly, oh no! One of the models broke her ankle on that mad dangerous stiletto heel. What are we going to do? Who could possibly take her place on the catwalk?” You look down at her, and find that she’s looking up at you in disbelief. “And that’s how I break into my career as America’s next top model.” 

“So, wait, you just become the top model in America, or you win the actual reality show?” she asks. 

“Both,” you answer. “I skipped the part where Tyra just happened to be sitting in the audience, and decided none of the basic bitches on the show could possibly match my swagger.” 

She continues looking at you in disbelief before eventually she erupts into giggles. “Dave, that makes no sense.”

“Are you trying to ruin my dreams, Jade? Is that what you want to do?” 

“No,” she says, and it’s suddenly a lot more serious than you expected. “I never wanted that. Sometimes I worry that’s what’s happening though.” 

You thwack her ear with your forefinger. “And who said that?”

“I just worry,” she sighs. “What if I’m out of work longer than I thought I would be? What if you have to get a better paying job? I know you like what you do; I don’t want to force you to quit. And don’t get me started on how much you don’t want a minivan…”

“Jade, if it makes you happy, we can buy a whole fleet of minivans,” you say, shrugging. “I’ll just have to wear a ski mask while driving them.” 

“I’m sure the neighbors will love that,” she says with an eye roll. 

“It’ll all work out,” you say, squeezing her closer. 

“Are you saying that because you know that, or because it sounds like the right thing to say?” 

You are totally and completely saying that because it sounds like the right thing to say. Because you’re afraid if you stop saying the right things you might just fall apart and not know what to do with the pieces. But being scared half to death never stopped you before. 

“If I say both, will you punch me again?” 

“Probably,” she says. 

“Good thing I’m not saying that then,” you say. 

She shakes her head, and you sit in silence for a minute, basking in the glow of not being punched. 

“Hey,” you say. “I have an idea. You know who works from home that could probably keep you company while you’re house-trapped?”

She giggles. “I think Karkat would be too terrified to be alone with me. I think he’s still convinced the baby’s going to burst out, _Alien_ style.”

You wave a hand. “I’ll convince him to get over it and watch chick flicks with you or something. Besides, you need to hang out with him to get him ovulating or whatever. Hanging out with pregnant chicks makes trolls ovulate, right?”

She laughs at you. “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

“Damn,” you mutter. “Poor John. Never going to re-enact the opening scene of _Con Air_ with his pregnant wife.” 

Jade shakes her head. “That’s probably for the best. It’s not very good.” 

“Wait a minute. Shh, did you hear that?” You lean over, angling your ear to her stomach. 

“Oh God, no.”

“I said ‘shh,’ Jade. Rude. I’m having a conversation here.” You press your ear to her bump. “Huh? What’s that? You wanna be in a shitty movie when you grow up?”

Jade slaps you. “No, we’re not doing this.” 

You kiss her belly before sitting up and kissing her lips too. You linger there a bit, twining your fingers in her hair and leaning her back a tad. When you break the kiss she’s smirking up at you. 

“C’mon. Let’s get off the roof before the neighbors really start to hate us.” 

She looks over at the ladder, glances at her stomach, and then back again. “Hmm, you know, climbing up the ladder was one thing, but I didn’t actually think about the getting down part. I can’t see my feet…” 

“Hmm, yeah, if only there was a ‘No Pregnant Women on the Roof’ rule to prevent these kinds of occurrences.” 

You kiss her before she can hit you again.


End file.
